


Moving On

by WaltD



Series: Tasked Forces [3]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3137189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltD/pseuds/WaltD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Wade get into a fight. Just what is the nature of a creature of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

_The characters in_ Forever Knight _were created by James Parriott and Barney Cohen and are the property of Sony/Columbia/Tri-Star. The stories here are fan fiction, in which Nick and Natalie survive "_ Last Knight _", the series finale. Tracy and Vachon also survive. This story may be archived wherever by whomever._

_Wade Everett, a new detective is temporarily assigned to the 96th and Nick; he's found out what Nick is._

**MOVING ON? (Tasked Force #3)  
  
** \-------------------------> **FIGHT** _AND_ FLIGHT?  
   
\-- launched himself at Wade. Nick moved in for an attack, but Wade parried his actions and danced out of the way. Nick swung at Wade, but missed. Wade stepped to the side, grabbed Nick's collar, twisted around and threw Nick on the floor with a martial arts flip.

_[Why were they fighting? What had Wade said or done to make Nick so mad that he would attack him?]_

_Mama if that's movin up then I'm movin out_  
            _Mm I'm movin out, mm oo oo uh huh mm hm_  
 _Movin' Out – Billy Joel_

            "Look, fella," he said looking down at Nick, "I don't need this crap!" He looked over at his rather surprised partner who was sprawled on the floor of his loft. "And what's all this talk about control? If you come at me with your fangs out and eyes golden, what am I supposed to think?"

            Nick, embarrassed, chagrined, ashamed, said, "I'm sorry, Wade; I lost my temper."

            "No shit, Shakespeare!   But I'll be honest, Nick. I goaded you into it."

            "Yeah? Ya think? Seemed real enough."

            "Nick, it's all true to a certain extent, but the point is that now you've had a catharsis. Think about it: you're not quite as depressed as you were a couple of hours ago. The physical exertion, and actually the mental exertion as well . . . well, it seems to have worked.

            "You seem to know just which of my buttons to push," Nick said frowning.

            "Yeah, I just listened to what LaCroix says to you, and went from there. Hey, is your wrist alright?" Wade asked

            "Looks like it worked," he said, quite embarrassed, "Am I that transparent?" and added, "No, it's broken, but it'll heal, you know that."

            "Yes, I do. And you know that mine won't,” Wade said somewhat coldly.

            "But, I didn't actually—"

            "Hurt me? No, you didn't. But the problem, Mister Nicholas _Jean-Pierre Sigismund de Brabant et Flandres_ Knight, is it wasn't for lack of trying!"

            "How _did_ you send me sprawling to the floor? – Hey! How do you know my full original name?"

            "Ah, Nick. Geez, here," Wade said, extending a hand, "come sit on the couch. You know, Mr. I'm-a-vampire-so-I'm-ten-times-as-strong-as-you, didn't you ever look into martial arts? I used leverage, your own strength, against you. Being strong and even strong and swift, isn't always the answer, as you now know having just been laid out on the floor by a puny mortal. What would your father think? -- not that I care, mind you, but –"

            "Yeah, yeah, but my name, Wade!"

            "Apparently you've never done any genealogical research on yourself either, but then, why would you? A scion of the house of Brabant et Flanders was listed in a prayer book from a church in the area circa 1230 which indicated a parishioner born about 30 years prior had died on the way back from the Crusades. Further research found a baby's birth registry in the same church circa 1196. I assumed it was you; from your reaction, guess I was right!" Wade smiled.

            "Yeah, well, how about that. How do you find these things out, Wade?" Nick admitted. Nick made a pretense of brushing himself off.

            "Nick, all that is interesting but beside the point. You've GOT to control your temper. You've got to learn that you've grown past these things and not let them get to you. Plus a couple of other things. For example, do you WANT to move on? It seems like you're setting yourself up for it."

            "Whaddaya mean, Wade?"

            "I mean, look at this: who all, among the people you know, knows about vampires?

**PEOPLE WHO NEED PEOPLE?**

_People who need people_  
            _are the luckiest people in the world_  
 _People, Streisand_

            Wade started ticking off on his fingers, "Let's see: Natalie, Grace, me, Tracy, the Captain, Jenny Schanke. How many other mortals have you let in on the secret? About eight girlfriends, I think. Who wonders about some of the stunts you pull? How many people have you had to hypnotize to forget they saw you fly?

            "My friend, you are going to learn to be careful, or *I* will – uh, well, I don't know. In any case, don’t you think with the growing number of people who know of 'your nature', that the enforcers might just get wind of it?"

            "If I seem to have blown it that bad, why shouldn't I just pack up and move on?"

            "Oh, because we're not going to let you get away _that_ easy. You may have done in the past, but not now! There are too many of us who care for you."

            "What? And you want to make me stay on because you like me?"

            "Well, duh. Yeah, we like you. And, jeez, there's lots worse reasons. Anyway, we wouldn't put ourselves out for someone we didn't like. Let's see, "Natalie's in love with you--"

            "But how can she—"

            "Later! That's between you and her to figure out, but a lot of us wish that Nick the Brick would open his eyes.

            "Myra and Jenny respect the hell out of you and your arranging for her scholarships, counseling her, being a surrogate father to her, doesn't hurt.

            "The Captain thinks you’re his best detective, even including me! Huh!

            "Grace wants to know when she can pick out her Matron of Honor dress."

            "But that would only be if Nat—"

            "Don't interrupt. The Division Bowling Team can't _spare_ you –heh, heh. Um, sorry about that.

            "But there are a dozen officers who owe you their lives. You think they don't know, but they do, and they're not stupid either. They appreciate it that you've kept that quiet, let them save face, but they know what's going on. [By the way, I _would_ like to know how you got Szczapanski that winning lottery ticket.] Their wives, the ones with wives, adore you 'cause you're cute, vulnerable, and you saved their spouse – geez, man, didn't you ever wonder why you get 10 invitations to Thanksgiving even though these guys _know_ you can't eat anything? And the pies and cakes that get dropped off? If they didn't bring them in, the wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, 'significant other' would have a fit.

            "Oh, the hell with it. Here, this is a tape of 'It's a Wonderful Life'. Frankly, I don't care for the movie, but it makes a point. DO YOU GET THE POINT!!! Well, you're going to watch it till you do, if we have to tie you down with kryptonite. -- Oh, puhleeze. Superman? Good grief, we're going to have to give you a crash course on 20 th century culture -- o.k., tie you down with garlic. Yeah, I thought you'd get that one.

            "The long and the short of it is that you are too involved with various peoples' lives to go off un-announced, un-noticed, or un-mourned."

            "I don't deserve this —

**NOT MOVING ON?**

_There's a place for us,_   
_A time and place for us._   
_Hold my hand and we're halfway there._   
_Hold my hand and I'll take you there_   
_Somehow, Some day, Somewhere!_   
_\-- Somewhere, Leonard Bernstein, "West Side Story"_

            "-- You're right, you don't. But you're getting it anyway, even if I have to shove it down your throat, so to speak.

            "And, don't even _begin_ to think that you can just disappear -- *I*'ve got connections, remember? You try the disappearing act on us, brother, and I'll sic Isidris on you!"

            At the mention of the name of the chief of the North American Enforcers, Nick looked up at Wade, "You would, too; wouldn't you?"

            "If I'm lyin', I'm not dyin' – and being mortal . . . ," he said with his eyebrows arched.

            "And as to whether you're worthy of our friendship, talk it over with Father Pierre, that's his job. And stop wallowing in self-pity.

            "Now, do you think you're over your shit-fit? I'm taking your duster; you ruined mine. Buy me a new one and I'll give it back. And the next time you attack *me*, I'll – well, I don't know what I'll do; just remember that I'm better at martial arts than you are.

            "You shouldn't have come at me like that," Wade said plainly. "There really was no need to. You lost it, and you need to learn how to live with it. And, well, Knight, stop losin' it!"

            "Tell me, Wade, what do you do when you're *really* mad?" Nick said putting on his award winning gaze.

            "I think you know *that* already. Remember the warehouse? -- hey, oh, no, no you don't, Knight. Remember, I've _seen_ that puppy dog look already, and I've even used it. 'S not gonna work on me.

            "I want your solemn promise that you will not take off, move on, leave announced or unannounced, or otherwise disappear without prior arrangements with me, Natalie, Reese, and anyone else we can think of to drag in here to keep you from running away. We're not giving you the choice this time; we're gonna make you deal with us, it, your life, whatever.   Do – you -- promise," Wade asked intently leaning over Nick like a wall that was about to fall on him.

            "You know, I could claim coercion."

            "Yeah," Wade laughed, "you think anyone of us would believe you? Or care? Come on."

            "I promise."

            "Your oath as a crusader."

            "You _are_ playing hard ball, aren't you? Very well, on my oath as a crusader knight, I promise not to disappear, move on, or in any other way leave without fulfilling all my duties and responsibilities to my friends, acquaintances, and co-workers. Will that do, _Monsieur Avocat_?"

            "Actually," Wade said quite a bit softer, "yes. If there is anything about you that is worthy and honorable, it's that your word is good. Thank you, Nick," Wade said, so quietly that no one but a vampire with Nick's hearing could have heard him.

            Nick was a bit taken aback by Wade's change in tone. He interpreted it to mean that Wade had been being completely serious in the whole discussion cum tirade. Nick wasn't sure he was quite ready to deal with the obvious show of emotion Wade had put forth. He would, of course, keep to his word. He _was_ his word.

            He suddenly stood up, stuck out his hand, and said to Wade, "Thanks, Wade, I appreciate your help. Now, how about we watch that movie? Popcorn?"

           Wade smiled, "Yeah, make the popcorn. I'm gonna go over here in the corner and finish up those reports. Call Natalie and see if she can get over here, and you can watch the movie together, she can explain the 20 th century references you don't get. I'm going to go home and get some sleep."

            And with a mildly lecherous grin, Wade added, "As attractive as I may be, Detective Knight, I'm just not your type. Now, Natalie . . . ."

* * * * *

**SOMEDAY**

_Kýrie, eléison, down the road that I must travel_   
_Kýrie, eléison, through the darkness of the night_   
_\-- Kyrie, Mr Mister_

            "You know, Wade, that some day, I _am_ going to have to move on."

            "Yes. I do know. And, when the time comes, you're gonna do it right. You _shall_ announce that you're moving to another city for a better job, a change of scenery, and whatever else you want to say. You _shall_ attend every good-bye party and send-off in good spirits and good cheer. You _shall_ have a general purpose mail address so people can send you notes and you shall answer those notes. And you _shall_ pack up the loft and ship things to your new city.

            "By the way, you will leave Toronto at about 38 or 40 years old and arrive in your new town at 28 years old. Ah the magic that computers and Merlin can make, eh?

            "I'd suggest Vancouver or Seattle. Vancouver has the Harbour Centre Tower, but Seattle has the Space Needle. I figure you'd need something like the CN Tower to orient yourself. :-)"

**750 YEARS!**

How this all got started.

_He'll expose you_   
_When he snows you_   
_Hope you're pleased With the crumbs he'll throw you_   
_He's ferocious and he knows just_   
_what it takes to make a pro blush_   
_All the boys think he's a spy_   
_He's got Bette Davis eyes_   
_\-- Bette Davis Eyes, Kim Carnes_

            "Yeah, you get depressed," Wade said.

            "And I don't have reason? Look at my life: what is there? Thousands of murders, a 'step-father' who wants me to murder more."

            Wade held his hand up and put his thumb and forefinger together, rubbing the tips together.

            Nick looks at him oddly, "What are you doing?"

            "Playing a "very small violin with very, very sad music."

            "Oh, great, that helps," Nick said sarcastically.   "What am I supposed to do?"

            "Fly out over Lake Ontario as far as you can until you're so tired you can't fly any more, then when you've fallen in the Lake, start swimming back," said Wade.

            "You're kidding?" said Nick.

            "No. One of the ways to work on depression is to physically exhaust yourself. You can't think about the things that depress you when you're in that condition, and there is some evidence that mere physical activity itself can help lighten depressive moods".

            "Maybe I could just fight with LaCroix; it'd be quicker."

            "You know, you're right. Where's your phone," Wade said turning his head left and right looking around, "I'll give him a call right now; I'll bet he'd come right over."

            "Sarcasm doesn't become you," Nick said nastily.

            "That wasn't sarcastic, that was sardonic."

            "What's the difference?"

            " 'Sardonic' is classier. And, why are you still dealing with LaCroix anyway?

            "He berates you, and he hates you, then he acts like he wants to date you. He's ferocious, and he knows just what it takes to make you mad,

            "So you bug him, and you mug him, then you act like you want to hug him, you're atrocious, and you know just why for you he is so, so bad.

            "I think you want this. You would be terribly lonely without him around.

            "Or, more likely, he's the only other male vampire that you've been close to. A sort of it's all you've got, so better the devil you know than the loneliness you don't," Wade added both loudly and nastily.

            "Yeah, he's not bugging _you_. _You're_ hanging around _him_ so you can feel a connection to _something_. Natalie, any other women, you're going to outlive. They'll disappear, and you'll be alone again. But, the great LaCroix will _always_ be there, you can count on it. Boy, are you a battered child or what?"

            Nick just sat there glowering, getting more and more upset.

            "Hey, it's been seven hundred fifty friggin' years! Isn't it about time you grew up and made your own way in the world, without thought or reference to whatever he may think? Jeez, talk about dysfunctional families! What the hell is the matter with you? 750 years! Isn't it about time you tell him to piss off? And, you don't wait for him to accept this, _you_ turn around and walk out. You _can_ walk, can't you?"

            Nick stood, his eyes glowing gold. Angrily he said, "you've taken a few psych courses, read a couple of texts, and you know _all_ about _my_ life and how to live it—"

            "--Yeah, apparently I do 'cause _you_ sure don't. Still hanging onto daddy's apron strings? You don't drink cow's blood because it's a substitute for human, you drink it 'cause you know it'll upset him!" Wade is talking louder and louder. "You're as bad as he is! You haven't spent 750 years trying to get away from him; you've spent 750 years goading each other and loving it." He's practically shouting now.

            "Why don't you just admit you've got a thing for him and you WANT to go to bed with him? _Take_ that fatherly love from him that he won't give to you. And, let me tell you he's very good at it 'cause I bedded him last week, and he's WONderful!" Wade said this in as nasty and as lecherous a manner as he could.

            Nick lost it. His eyes turned gold, his fangs dropped, he crouched in a feral stoop, and –

**FIGHT _AND_ FLIGHT? ---------------------------------- >**

\-- launched himself at Wade. Nick moved in for an attack, but Wade parried his actions and danced out of the way. . . . .

  _This is where we came in, . . . ._

 


End file.
